


I sent a letter to my love

by lyryk (s_k)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossdressing Kink, Editor!Arthur, M/M, vague hints of D/s, writer!Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/pseuds/lyryk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written way back when for a KMM prompt that asked for something based on <i>You've Got Mail</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I sent a letter to my love

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 9:22 p.m.

_Hey. I know you’re probably still travelling and all that. Just thought I’d send you a note to say hi. Let me know when you’re back, yeah?_

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 9:48 p.m.

_When most people need to let off steam, they usually go to bars and stuff, you know._

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 9:51 p.m.

_Who said anything about letting off steam? And I’m not most people._

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 9:53 p.m.

_I know. So what ails you, my prince?_

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 9:57 p.m.

_Nothing. Just some jerk I met today. He totally fucked up my day._

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 9:59 p.m.

_Hmm. You want to talk about it?_

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 10:01 p.m.

_Nah, it’s just work stuff. Are you back?_

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 10:02 p.m.

_I am. :-)_

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 10:07 p.m.

_So, did you do anything interesting on your trip? If I may ask._

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 10:12 p.m.

_Nope. I mean, yes, of course you can ask. Didn’t do anything fun, I mean. Just, you know, work._

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 10:16 p.m.

_You know what they say about all work and no play, don’t you?_

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 10:19 p.m.

_Well, in my case, work *is* play. Sort of._

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 10:21 p.m.

_I’m intrigued. I’d ask, but we said no specifics._

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 10:26 p.m.

_Yeah. Probably better that way, isn’t it?_

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 10:34 p.m.

_Yes. Hey, listen, I’d love to stick around a bit longer but I have a meeting in the morning. Obscenely early, I might add. And with the same insolent idiot I met today. Wish me luck?_

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 10:37 p.m.

_Poor baby. Get thee to bed then, my liege. And don’t fret. You’re going to knock the poor bastard dead._

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 10:39 p.m.

_God, I hope it doesn’t come to that. I’m sort of itching to get my hands around his scrawny little neck._

_Good night. And thank you._

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 10:41 p.m.

_Maybe he enjoys that sort of thing. ;-)_

_Anytime. Sweet dreams._

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 10:45 p.m.

_You know you have a one-track mind, right?_

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 10:47 p.m.

_Possibly. :-D Now go to bed! We don’t want you all cranky in the morning._

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 6, 10:48 p.m.

_Sir, yes, sir!_

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 6, 10:49 p.m.

_Good boy. :-)_

 

\--

 

“Mr Emrys,” Arthur says, thinking he’s being remarkably patient under the circumstances, “with all due respect—”

“Why do people use that phrase?” the other man asks thoughtfully, breaking in with careless ease. “When really they mean no respect at all.”

Arthur just stares for a moment. _Hands. Scrawny little neck. No, he’d probably enjoy that._ The memory of the previous night’s emails almost brings a smile to his face, but he brushes the thought aside. It wouldn’t pay to be distracted now. 

Arthur’s gaydar is humming uncertainly. Emrys is wearing a rather gorgeously tailored black blazer over snug black trousers and a sky-blue polo neck that highlights his startling eyes, the soft wool snug about his throat. Arthur feels a twinge of irritation. If only the man weren’t such an arse about his manuscript.

“Mr Emrys,” he tries again. “I can assure you I mean no disrespect. As your editor, I strongly believe your manuscript could benefit from the changes I’ve suggested. I do know the market, you know.”

The author runs a hand back through his shaggy dark hair, the first sign of frustration he’s given so far. “Tell me again why you’re editing this book? I’d much rather work with Morgana again. Maybe I should have a word with your father, Mr Pendragon.”

Arthur flushes. “I assure you, Mr Emrys, that I’m more than capable of handling this project. My sister is out of the country, as you well know.”

Emrys stands, reaching across the table to take the folder out of Arthur’s hands. “You should know, Mr Pendragon, that this is more than ‘a project’ to me. I’ve spent three years working on it, and I rather think I know better than a green editor who’s glanced through it overnight.”

Arthur’s heart sinks. He tells himself it’s because his father is unlikely to be overjoyed at the idea that he let one of their biggest names get away from them. That the cold, distant look in Emrys’s eyes has nothing to do with the sudden, icy lurch of anxiety in his guts. How had Morgana ever handled this man?

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, getting to his feet. He’s tall, but Emrys is a little taller, and at that moment Arthur feels about a foot tall, despite the insinuation that he hasn’t done his job. “Mr Emrys, I’m really sorry. I meant no offence. I assure you, I’ve read every word of your manuscript.”

Unexpectedly, Emrys smiles. “Then why don’t you tell me what _you_ think about it.”

“I’ve already—”

“No, you haven’t. Let’s put your professional opinion aside for a moment, Mr Pendragon. Tell me what you thought.”

“I.” Arthur closes his eyes briefly, takes a calming breath. _I loved it. It’s absolutely marvellous. I think I fell a little in love with it._ “While your characterisation is flawless, I—”

“Same old bullshit again,” Emrys snaps, cracking the folder in the air like a whip. “I’ll tell you what, Pendragon. You call me when you’re ready to have an honest conversation about this book.”

With that, he turns on his heel and is gone.

 

\--

 

Arthur sinks deeper into his sofa, every sip of his vodka and tonic seeming like a trickle of further misery that runs down his throat and pools in his gut like a cold reminder of his failure. Emrys hasn’t returned his calls, and to top it all, he’s had to suffer an extremely unpleasant meeting with his father warning him of the consequences if he doesn’t make things right with one of their most celebrated authors. He’s more than a little annoyed that Emrys brought up the issue with Uther, but supposes that he deserves no less.

He’s just contemplating going to bed when a soft ping from his laptop tells him that he has mail. Sitting up with a groan, he drags the laptop closer and opens his inbox.

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 7, 10:47 p.m.

_Hey you. Been thinking of you all day. Hope your day was better than mine._

Arthur frowns in concern. This is the first time that his anonymous correspondent has sounded less than cheery. He quickly types back a response.

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 7, 10:49 p.m.

_Hey yourself. All fine over there? You don’t sound too good._

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 7, 9:51 p.m.

_I’m good, yeah. Just stupid work stuff. Your meeting go okay?_

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 7, 10:54 p.m.

_No, not really. I screwed things up bigtime._

_Talk to me, yeah?_

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 7, 10:58 p.m.

_Don’t be too hard on yourself, babe. You’re a good bloke._

_Just some insufferable prat who pissed all over my work._

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 7, 11:02 p.m.

_You sure about that? I may not even be a bloke. I could be a chick. With boobs and all._

_Piss right back on him._

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 7, 11:04 p.m.

_LOL. Some fetishes should be kept to yourself. Although now that you mention it, I wouldn’t say no if you were to turn up at my doorstep in stockings and a lycra skirt._

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 7, 11:05 p.m.

_And a corset?_

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 7, 11:07 p.m.

_Fuck. I like the way your mind works. What are you wearing, my delicious slut?_

Arthur stares stupidly at the screen for a moment. He’s impossibly hard already, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his brow despite the air-conditioning in the room. _Jeans and a t-shirt_ , he types back, and has hit ‘send’ before it occurs to him that he could have made himself sound a bit more sexy.

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 7, 11:10 p.m.

_Get them off, princess. Come for me, yeah?_

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent: June 7, 11:12 p.m.

_Fuck, yes. See you on the other side._

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent: June 7, 11:13 p.m.

_Likewise._

Arthur yanks his t-shirt off and throws it across the room, kicking his legs free of his jeans. He curls his bares toes into the carpet, his hand excruciatingly slow on his cock at first as he lets the other man’s words seize his imagination like the reins of a horse’s bridle.

He’s bent over a table in an unfamiliar drawing room, his skirt pushed up around his waist, his legs spread wide. Hands are running down his nylon-clad legs, gliding, stroking, teasing, and a man’s voice is praising him, telling him what a good princess he is. His lover’s voice is hoarse with arousal, his cock hard and relentless inside Arthur’s body as he fucks him into oblivion.

And then he’s being rolled over on to his back, and being fucked again, mercilessly, wildly, wonderfully, and he’s wrapping his legs around his lover’s waist as rough kisses are bitten into his throat and all over his face, a sure hand on his cock, sliding up and down in time with the thrusts of the other man’s cock. “Fuck, yes,” Arthur gasps as he spills over his fist.

What he’s unprepared for is a vision, just as he comes, of Merlin Emrys leaning over him, his gorgeous features contorted with unrestrained bliss, his dark, dark hair falling into those glorious eyes, his lips red and wet from their kisses, crying out Arthur’s name as he comes deep inside him.

 

\--

 

‘And that,’ Emrys finishes lightly, ‘is why I think non-linear narratives are so much fun.’ There is a huge round of applause, and most of the audience stands. 

Arthur slinks down lower in his seat at the end of the auditorium. He’s come to Emrys’s lecture hoping to corner him afterward, since he still hasn’t been returning Arthur’s calls. He hadn’t expected the talk to be so captivating. Emrys had barely looked at his notes, keeping eye contact with his listeners and speaking with passion and credibility. 

It doesn’t hurt that he is dressed all in black and looks sinfully good, his glossy hair in casual disarray, falling into his eyes. As people begin asking questions and the writer engages with his audience, Arthur watches him as unobtrusively as possible. He leans back in his chair as he talks and listens, the picture of lean, languid grace.

It’s a while before people begin trickling away. Arthur, who’s resigned himself to a long wait, is surprised when he hears Emrys plead off the obligatory post-talk lunch, make his excuses, and exit from a side door. He follows quickly.

‘You stalking me?’ Emrys calls over his shoulder, not pausing. 

Arthur hurries to catch up, falling into stride beside him. ‘It was a public lecture. Hardly counts as stalking.’

Emrys doesn’t look at him. ‘What do you want, Mr Pendragon?’

‘You won’t return my calls.’

Emrys stops, and turns to face Arthur. ‘It’s not you. I haven’t returned any calls. Haven’t checked my messages. I’m better with email, really.’

Heartened by the admission, Arthur takes the plunge. ‘Can we talk?’

He gets a shock when Emrys reaches out to grasp his wrist and turn it gently. It takes a moment for Arthur to realise that he’s looking at the time, since he isn’t wearing a watch.

‘I have thirty minutes,’ Emrys says. ‘Want to grab a tea?’ 

Arthur stares for a moment, completely thrown. He hadn’t expected this to be so easy. ‘Sure,’ he says. ‘And it’s Arthur.’ He holds out his hand.

Emrys takes it, his grip warm and firm, a glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘Merlin,’ he says. ‘It’s good to meet you, Arthur.’

‘Merlin,’ Arthur repeats, tasting the name, liking how it fills his mouth.

 

\--

 

‘Twenty minutes,’ Merlin says, his lips crooked into a half-smile. His hands are clasped around the steaming mug of tea in front of him. Sunlight streams in through the glass window of the little cafe, lighting Merlin up with a lustrous glow, as though his outline is shimmering with magic. 

Arthur forces himself to focus on what he has to say. ‘I admire your work. A lot. I think I had some valid points to make. But maybe I didn’t say them the way I should have.’ He waits, takes a deep breath, watches Merlin watching him.

‘Okay,’ Merlin says easily. ‘Go on.’

Arthur swallows. ‘Your words, they’re like... like magic. That scene in which you describe the artist peeling the orange, it’s... I don’t know, it’s so _visceral_. So sensual. The perfect counterpart to the lovemaking scene. The little details are overwhelming. It’s like they take hold of your senses and don’t let go until you’re drunk on what you’re reading.’

Merlin beams. ‘Don’t stop talking,’ he says, his voice throaty with pleasure. ‘Don’t ever stop talking.’

Arthur laughs, relaxing a little for the first time. He gets a little braver. ‘I think that’s almost getting in the way, though, you know?’ He stops and waits for Merlin’s reaction, afraid he’s spoilt the moment.

‘Okay,’ Merlin says again, taking a sip of his tea. His eyes are warm, his gaze not letting go of Arthur’s. ‘Keep talking.’ He smiles, and it’s brighter than the sunlight. ‘You’re doing well so far,’ he says with a wink. 

‘I just... I think when you do say something important, it gets lost in the _way_ in which you say it. That bit about art being frozen, being dead, that’s just lost in the beauty of that scene. I want you to highlight that more. I want to see that happening, not just being _said_. Does that make any sense at all?’

Merlin nods. ‘Is that what you meant when you wrote in the margin that the scene didn’t work for you?’

Arthur groans. ‘God, did I really put it like that? I was such a... such a—’

‘Prat,’ Merlin finishes for him, grinning. A flicker of memory appears for a second in Arthur’s mind, but is gone before he can register it.

Merlin glances up at the round, old-fashioned clock on the wall. ‘I have to be going soon,’ he says, sounding genuinely regretful. ‘But tell you what. Maybe we can sit down sometime and talk about the scenes you want revised.’

‘They’re just suggestions,’ Arthur says quickly. ‘You don’t have to take any of them. I just—’

‘I know,’ Merlin cuts in. ‘We’ll talk, okay? I have to go.’

 

\--

 

Arthur strolls back to the office, unable to keep the smile from his face. While Merlin hasn’t exactly agreed to anything, he can’t help but feel that they’ve made definite progress.

He spends a pleasant afternoon going through submissions for the in-house literary magazine, rejecting some, putting a few in the ‘maybe’ pile that he’ll forward to Morgana for a second opinion, and selecting a few as definitely worthy of publication. It’s getting to be evening when his solitude is finally interrupted.

The door slams open and Uther storms in. ‘Emrys just refused the contract. What the hell did you do?’

‘He what?’ Arthur says blankly, looking up at his father. Something cold and dark plummets into his stomach, chasing every shred of warmth away.

‘He won’t sign the deal with us. Says he’s never going to associate with Pendragon Books again. _What did you do?_ ’

\--

green_and_dying: Hey... you around?  
ersatz_prince: Hey. I am. So we’ve progressed to IM?  
green_and_dying: Felt like it was about time. You good?  
ersatz_prince: Yes. And you? I’ve missed you.  
green_and_dying: I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. Had a bit of an emergency.  
ersatz_prince: What happened? Are you all right?  
green_and_dying: I’m fine. Some friends needed me. Are you OK? You don’t sound your usual self.  
ersatz_prince: Yeah. Just, you know. Work stuff.  
green_and_dying: Hmm. What can I do to help?  
ersatz_prince: Seriously?  
green_and_dying: Anything.  
ersatz_prince: Meet me. For real.  
green_and_dying: OK. Done. :-)  
ersatz_prince: You mean it?  
green_and_dying: I do. Absolutely.  
ersatz_prince: Wow.  
green_and_dying: You’re sweet when you’re tongue-tied. :-P  
ersatz_prince: You just made my day a zillion times better. You have no idea.  
green_and_dying: Couldn’t have been worse than my day, believe me. So, tomorrow? Lunch? :-)  
ersatz_prince: Perfect. Where?  
green_and_dying: You know the new Italian place? Fellini’s? I know you like Italian. :-)  
ersatz_prince: You know me too well. I’ll be there.  
green_and_dying: How will I know you, my dashing prince?  
ersatz_prince: I’ll be in a red shirt. And I’ll carry a book you’ll know me by.  
green_and_dying: Fantastic. You know I’ll probably snog you as soon as I see you and etiquette be damned, don’t you?  
ersatz_prince: I’m counting on it. Will be disappointed if you don’t misbehave.  
green_and_dying: I’ll be there at one. With a red rose, because I’m old-fashioned like that.  
ersatz_prince: You nervous?  
green_and_dying: Could not be more terrified.  
ersatz_prince: Me either. What if we don’t like each other?  
green_and_dying: I’ll like you, babe. I fucking *know* you.  
ersatz_prince: Hey, I know you too. :-)  
green_and_dying: Well, good. Then we have nothing to worry about. :-)

\--

Arthur fiddles with his bookmark yet again, and then shoves it inside his copy of _The Picture of Dorian Gray_. He takes another sip of water.

It’s ten past one.

There are any number of reasons that he could be late, Arthur tells himself reasonably. Traffic. Phone calls. Unexpected visitors. Aliens in the backyard.

Or he could have just changed his mind. There’s probably an email waiting for Arthur, apologising. _I’m sorry. Maybe some other time._

 _Show up_ , Arthur thinks somewhat desperately to himself. _Come on. Don’t do this to me. Not you, too._

The last couple of days have been a real trial. He still has no idea what he did to make Merlin reject the book deal. He’s played back their meeting in his head a thousand time, but hasn’t come up with a single thing that had seemed amiss at the time, except that Merlin had seemed in a hurry to get somewhere. And of course Merlin isn’t returning his calls. 

And now _this_. This fool’s errand, when he’s come to meet someone he doesn’t know, who could even now he having a laugh at Arthur’s expense. 

_No. He wouldn’t do that. I know him, damn it._ Even as he tries to reassure himself, a more rational voice in his head tells him there’s no way to truly know someone over the internet.

He reaches for his water glass again and, discovering that it’s empty, looks around to signal the waiter for more.

And looks right up into the eyes of Merlin Emrys.

‘What’s a rich boy like you doing in a place like this?’ Merlin sneers.

Arthur stands up. ‘I have as much right to be here as you,’ he says slowly, his mind whirling.

Merlin laughs, a cold, hard sound. ‘Go home to your daddy, little boy.’

‘Merlin, what the hell? What’s going on? I thought we—’ 

‘Don’t play innocent with me, Arthur. It’s not going to work. Not this time.’

‘I don’t know what you’re on about!’ Arthur cries, raising his voice in frustration. People turn around in their seats to stare, but he ignores them.

‘No?’ Merlin says loudly, voice dripping with scepticism. ‘You mean you didn’t crash my lecture the other day to distract me while your father did his dirty work?’

‘My father was as surprised about what you did as I was!’

Merlin’s eyes are narrow slits of animosity, the antithesis of the warmth that had caressed Arthur like a sunbeam during their last meeting. ‘Either you’re a really good actor, or you’re completely ignorant,’ he says in disgust. ‘Either way, I want nothing to do with you.’

With that, he turns on his heel and is gone. After a moment of stunned silence, Arthur heads for his car.

\-- 

_The Shop Around the Corner_ , proclaims the small wooden board hanging outside the little bookstore. The sign swings gently in the afternoon breeze, its frailty offering no comfort at all as Arthur stares up at it, willing himself to gather the courage to enter. The glass window offers no view inside, since it’s crammed full of books of all sizes and shapes, stacked up to the ceiling. A handwritten note is stuck on the inside of the glass: _Going out of business sale. 20% off on everything._

He’s still standing there, debating what to do, when the door opens with the tinkling of a bell. ‘Are you coming in?’ the young woman at the door asks, smiling. She has a mass of soft dark curls around her shoulders, and her welcoming smile makes something melt a little inside Arthur, even as he feels like even more of a heel. 

__‘I’m Gwen, by the way,’ she continues._ _

__‘Arthur.’ He takes her proffered hand and she squeezes it warmly. ‘Come on in.’_ _

__Arthur follows her inside the small shop. Books are crammed into every nook, spilling over themselves like flowers in a delightfully overgrown garden. The shop smells of books, reminding him of the fragrance of childhood, of memories. It’s been a while since he’s smelt old books, been so close to so many of them._ _

__‘We used to have a cafe outside,’ Gwen says, looking out the door a little wistfully at the cobbled pavement. ‘But the tables were sent away this morning.’_ _

__Before Arthur can respond—before he can even think of a response—a horribly familiar voice calls out from another room. ‘Lance, where do you want—’ Merlin emerges from behind a beaded curtain with his arms full of comic books, cutting himself off when he sees Arthur._ _

__‘He’s just gone to get more cartons,’ Gwen says, apparently referring to Lance. Then Arthur sees the confusion on her face as she looks back and forth between the two of them, who are standing stock-still. ‘Am I missing something? Merlin?’_ _

__‘You could say that,’ Merlin says bitterly, his eyes on Arthur. ‘Gwen, meet the man who’s putting you out of business.’_ _

__‘You’re Uther Pendragon?’ Gwen says, sounding surprised. ‘I thought you’d be older.’_ _

__Arthur turns to her. ‘I’m his son. Arthur Pendragon.’_ _

__‘Oh,’ Gwen says. She looks a little lost now, her earlier warmth changing to bewilderment. ‘We’ll be gone by the end of the week, Mr Pendragon. I hope that’s okay.’_ _

__‘You hear that?’ Merlin says quietly. He’s still hugging the books to his chest. ‘You can get out now, and go and report back to your father.’_ _

__‘I didn’t come here for that,’ Arthur protests. ‘I only just found out about this.’_ _

__‘I don’t believe you,’ Merlin says flatly. ‘It wasn’t a coincidence that the eviction notice was delivered when you waylaid me for our little conversation. If I’d been here, Lance and Gwen would have had some support. They’d never have accepted the notice.’_ _

__‘I am not my father,’ Arthur says quietly._ _

__‘You may as well be, for all I care. Get the fuck out.’_ _

__‘Merlin!’ Gwen says sharply. ‘I think you’re being a little—’_ _

__‘I don’t care, Gwen! Don’t you see he’s responsible for this?’_ _

__‘It’s all right,’ Arthur says, raising his hands to show that he doesn’t want to fight. ‘I just wanted to help.’ He looks at Gwen. ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’ And then there’s nothing else for it but to turn around and leave before Merlin can hate him some more._ _

__

__\--_ _

__

__Misery burrows under his skin like an insect. He rolls over on to his side, burying his face in a cushion, trying to ignore the lit screen of his laptop. The screen which shows his inbox with exactly zero new messages._ _

__He’d sent three messages before the humiliation kicked in and he’d given up. It’s almost three days now since they’d been scheduled to meet, and he can only imagine that either his correspondent had decided not to show up, or worse, had reached and witnessed the ugly scene between him and Merlin, and left. In his hurry to follow Merlin out of the restaurant, he’d left his Wilde book behind. When he’d gone back for it later, there was no sign of it and the staff didn’t know who’d taken it. He’d written an inscription in it, meaning to gift it to his mystery date, and now it’s lost, probably in the hands of some stranger who will never know its history. It seems fitting, somehow, considering everything he’s lost in the space of a couple of days._ _

__Trying to get his mind off everything, he reaches for the remote and switches channels until he reaches the news._ _

__And there is Merlin Emrys, so bright on the screen that it hurts to look at him. Politely telling his interviewer that he’s pulled out of his association with his longterm publishers because of “irreconcilable differences”. Somehow, it’s even worse this way than if he’d been ranting and raging about Pendragon Books. His words, his cool courteousness, hurt like thousands of tiny needles._ _

__Arthur puts the television on mute and watches Merlin on the screen, flashing back to Merlin’s hand on his wrist, warm as sunshine. The image of him across the table at the cafe, the way his face had been alight with happiness at Arthur’s praising his book. He’d meant it, every word. He’d finally found the courage to be honest about the manuscript, and now Merlin thought he’d made it all up to distract him while his father bullied Merlin’s friends out of their business._ _

__To make things worse, Uther hadn’t even known that Merlin was involved with the Shop Around the Corner in any way. The Pendragons own the whole street on which the little store is located, and that particular building is being torn down for a new 2000-sq-foot showroom for Pendragon Books. It’s merely a business decision, and one that his father is not willing to go back on, even after Arthur’s attempts to convince him that Merlin may come back to them if they treat his friends right._ _

__On the plus side, this means that Arthur is no longer responsible for fixing the situation with Merlin; his father has decided that that bridge has been burnt. Somehow, it doesn’t make Arthur feel any better about the situation. There’s an ache in him where his correspondent of months had been, and he wishes there were some way, any way, to return things to the way they’d been. But he knows such a wish is futile, like trying to grasp wisps of smoke as they float irretrievably away._ _

__

__\--_ _

__

__The week slips away in a haze. Arthur throws himself into his work, refusing to allow himself to think._ _

__At night, what he refuses to think about during the day catches up with him. He dreams incessantly. One morning he awakens with a jolt, nearly falling off his sofa. He rubs wearily at his eyes and reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s almost seven._ _

__He makes himself a cup of tea and sits down with his laptop at the kitchen table, meaning to get a bit of work in before he leaves for the office. He opens his inbox and his heart skips a beat as he sees a message from a familiar name._ _

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent:12:13 a.m. 

_I am so sorry. I don’t know what you must think of me for disappearing on you. Forgive me?_

His fingers are already typing a response before he can even begin to think about whether it’s a good idea.

_Nothing to forgive. I thought... I didn’t know what to think. Thought I’d never hear from you again._

Seconds later, an IM box pops up on his screen.

green_and_dying: Hi.  
ersatz_prince: Hey.  
green_and_dying: Good time?  
ersatz_prince: I have a few minutes, yeah.  
green_and_dying: I missed you.  
ersatz_prince: I missed you too. Thought that was it.  
green_and_dying: Hey, hey. I wouldn’t do that to you.  
ersatz_prince: What happened?  
green_and_dying: I’m sorry I didn’t show up. Something came up and I needed time.  
ersatz_prince: OK.  
green_and_dying: You must hate me.  
ersatz_prince: No, I could never.  
green_and_dying: You must have waited. I’m sorry.  
ersatz_prince: Yeah. I ran into someone who doesn’t like me much. We... had words. I was worried you might have seen that.  
green_and_dying: I’m sorry. You were expecting to meet someone you trusted, and you faced something nasty instead. I wish I could have spared you that. I’m so sorry.  
ersatz_prince: Stop apologising. It’s fine. I’m just really glad you’re talking to me again.  
green_and_dying: I never meant to stay away so long. I just had things to sort out.  
ersatz_prince: Does this mean we’re OK?  
green_and_dying: We’re good. If that’s what you want.  
ersatz_prince: It is.  
green_and_dying: I won’t disappear on you again. You have my word.  
ersatz_prince: That means a lot. Thank you.  
green_and_dying: No, thank you.  
ersatz_prince: Are you all right? I was worried.  
green_and_dying: I am now. Everything’s going to be all right. 

__

__\--_ _

__

__Despite the fact that he can’t keep a grin off his face because at least something’s going right for a change, the events of the past week finally catch up with Arthur and he wakes up the next morning aching all over, his skin flushed with fever. He crawls back into bed with his laptop, too exhausted even to smile when he finds another message in his inbox._ _

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent:7:21 a.m.

_Good morning. Just thought I’d wish you a very pleasant day. :-)_

From: ersatz_prince  
To: green_and_dying  
Sent:7:36 a.m.

_I’m sick and whiny. Hope your day is better than mine._

From: green_and_dying  
To: ersatz_prince  
Sent:7:41 a.m.

_So sorry to hear that, sweet prince. You take very good care of yourself, OK? I’ll check in on you later._

Arthur manages a smile before collapsing back on to the pillows. When he awakens next it’s the middle of the day, and there’s an insistent knocking at his front door.

‘Go ’way,’ he mumbles, burying his face deeper in his pillow, but the person at the door is quite insistent.

Groaning, Arthur drags on a bathrobe and stumbles to the door. He opens it and blinks stupidly, too surprised to do anything else.

‘About time,’ Merlin says. ‘I’ve only been knocking forever.’

Arthur opens his mouth, but every word he knows has suddenly vanished from his memory. Merlin is in all black again, his hair wind-mussed. 

__‘You okay?’ Merlin goes on. ‘You don’t look too good.’_ _

__‘Flu or something,’ Arthur manages. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He sways a little, and clutches the door for support._ _

__‘Let’s get you inside,’ Merlin says gently, taking his arm. Arthur shuts his eyes and leans against him for a second. It feels far too good to be touched like this, to feel Merlin’s warm body beside him. He allows himself to be led to the sofa, and wonders if he’s dreaming again._ _

__Merlin takes the afghan off the back of the sofa and wraps it snugly around Arthur’s shoulders and chest. ‘You’re cold,’ he admonishes gently. ‘Sit tight, I’ll get you something warm to drink.’_ _

__‘Why are you doing this?’ Arthur asks, dazed, as Merlin returns a few minutes later with a plate of buttered toast and two cups of tea, a sweet, milky one for Arthur and a stronger one for himself._ _

__‘Because you’re ill?’ Merlin pushes Arthur’s cup into his hands, keeping his hands around Arthur’s until he’s sure Arthur’s got a good grip on it._ _

__‘No, I mean, why are you here? I thought you hated me.’_ _

__Merlin’s gaze, so brash and confident until then, drops to the floor. ‘I don’t... I don’t hate you, Arthur. I never did. I was... I _am_... angry about what your father did, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.’_ _

__‘You came here to apologise?’ Arthur wraps his fingers tightly around the cup, letting its warmth seep into his skin._ _

__Merlin looks up at last, smiling faintly. ‘Drink your tea while it’s hot.’ He watches as Arthur takes a sip. ‘Gwen told me you went back later and spoke with her and Lance. Said you’d try to help.’_ _

__Arthur shakes his head. ‘I can’t change my father’s mind, Merlin. He’s a stubborn man. But I’ll do what I can to help them find somewhere else.’_ _

__‘You don’t know what that’ll mean to them. They can’t afford another place. I can help too, but not enough.’ Merlin runs his hands through his hair in frustration, messing it up even more._ _

__‘Maybe we can think of something together,’ Arthur says without thinking._ _

__Merlin nods, and gets to his feet. ‘Eat, okay? I’ll be back later.’_ _

__

__\--_ _

__

__‘I come bearing soup,’ Merlin says brightly when Arthur opens the door. His gaze rakes Arthur from head to foot, and Arthur’s sure he’d be going red if his skin weren’t already flushed. ‘You look much better,’ Merlin says approvingly, squeezing Arthur’s shoulder warmly before heading to the kitchen in search of bowls._ _

__They talk over creamy soup (chicken for Arthur, vegetable for Merlin) in the kitchen, steam rising into their faces and making the place seem warm and homey._ _

__‘I dropped in to Gwen and Lance’s on the way,’ Merlin says around a crunchy mouthful of soup-stick. ‘What?’ he asks when Arthur smiles._ _

__‘Nothing,’ Arthur says, still smiling. ‘This seems... a little unreal. How are they?’_ _

__‘Hanging in there. I said we’d try to help. Gwen seemed happy we were getting along. What seems unreal?’ Merlin reaches over to dab at a bit of soup on Arthur’s lip with a paper napkin._ _

__‘This. You, in my kitchen.’_ _

__‘Shouldn’t I be here?’ Merlin asks, swirling his soup around with his spoon. ‘I just thought—’_ _

__‘No, no,’ Arthur says quickly. ‘I like it.’_ _

__Merlin looks up, a dazzling smile on his face. ‘I’m glad,’ he says simply. When he shifts his chair a little closer so that their knees brush under the table, Arthur says nothing, enjoying the feel of Merlin’s leg pressed against his. They spend the rest of the meal in companionable silence._ _

__Later, Merlin clears the dishes away, insisting that Arthur remain seated. He makes them both hot chocolate in lieu of dessert, talking away as he makes himself at home in the kitchen. They retreat to the sofa, curling up with their mugs of chocolate, and talk about their favourite books, about publishing, about nonsense. Arthur’s face is beginning to hurt from smiling near-constantly._ _

__‘Wish I had enough money to just buy them a few place,’ Merlin says suddenly, wistfully._ _

__‘Me too,’ Arthur confesses. ‘I have almost nothing in my name. It all belongs to my father. The company, the money. But I have this friend,’ he goes on, seeing the unhappiness on Merlin’s face, wanting to soothe it away. ‘Gwaine. He’s got some property, and he’s pretty cool about helping people. But he’s away, and I haven’t heard back from him yet.’_ _

__‘They could pay him rent,’ Merlin says, and Arthur smiles to see the excitement shining in his eyes._ _

__He nods. ‘Yeah. I really hope he checks his messages soon. We’re running out of time.’_ _

__‘It’ll work out,’ Merlin says. ‘I have a good feeling about this.’ He takes Arthur’s empty mug from his hands, and sets both their mugs aside. When he leans in to cup Arthur’s face in his hands, the gesture seems so natural that Arthur instinctively moves closer, helping Merlin to close the gap between their lips._ _

__Merlin tastes like chocolate and sunshine, his lips warm and firm against Arthur’s, his fingers tangling in Arthur’s hair to keep him close. Arthur tilts his head to grant Merlin access into his mouth, moaning softly as Merlin’s tongue moves in possessively. He runs his hands down Merlin’s black sweater, feeling the planes of his back, tracing the length of his spine, cupping the nape of his neck._ _

__They end the kiss slowly, reluctantly, keeping their hands on each other as their lips break apart. ‘Holy fuck,’ Merlin says quietly. ‘Arthur.’ He leans his forehead against Arthur’s, his thumbs gently caressing the soft skin behind Arthur’s ears. ‘Arthur,’ he says again, the name a complete sentence in itself._ _

__‘What are we doing?’ Arthur whispers against Merlin’s lips, afraid everything is going to dissipate into smoke, like a dream._ _

__‘I don’t know,’ Merlin confesses, kissing him again, gently, softly. ‘But I never want to stop.’ His phone beeps, and Merlin pulls away with a groan. ‘I’ve a meeting with a publisher,’ he explains, clicking off the reminder alarm. ‘I have to go.’ He gets to his feet, settling his hand gently on top of Arthur’s head for a moment. ‘I’ll see you soon, yeah?’_ _

__Arthur nods, looking up at him. Merlin touches Arthur’s lips briefly with his fingertips, and is gone._ _

__Feeling tired and pleasantly full, Arthur slips into a doze on his sofa. He awakens a couple of hours later, wondering why he feels like smiling, and remembers the afternoon with Merlin. The thought of the kiss sends warmth tingling through his body, and he curls his toes against the floor._ _

__Wanting to wash the fever’s sweat away, he shucks his clothes and gets under the shower, unable to keep Merlin from his mind. He caresses himself slowly, thinking of Merlin there with him, those long, elegant fingers in his wet hair as Arthur kneels before him. He pictures Merlin’s cock in his mouth, filling him, warm and heavy and salty and heavenly. He slips his fingers into his mouth, the imagined taste of Merlin merging with the taste of himself. He comes with Merlin’s name on his lips, choking it out through his own fingers as he sucks them._ _

__He’s sated and happy and towelling his hair dry as he emerges from the bathroom. A beep from his computer brings him back to reality._ _

green_and_dying: Hey, you around?  
ersatz_prince: Hey. Was in the shower.  
green_and_dying: Sounds like you’re feeling better. :-)  
ersatz_prince: Much better, thanks. I had someone looking after me.  
green_and_dying: I’m glad. I didn’t want you to be alone when you were sick.  
ersatz_prince: There’s something I need to tell you.  
green_and_dying: What is it?  
ersatz_prince: I don’t really know how to say this.  
green_and_dying: You know you can tell me anything, my prince. 

__Arthur takes a deep breath, hating himself for what he’s going to say. But there’s no way around it._ _

ersatz_prince: This person who cared for me today. I think there’s something between us.  
green_and_dying: You think? Sounds to me as if you’re sure, or you wouldn’t be telling me.  
ersatz_prince: I don’t know for sure. We kissed.  
green_and_dying: Do you like him?  
ersatz_prince: Yes. Very much.  
green_and_dying: There you go, then.  
ersatz_prince: I feel horrible. I don’t want to lose what we have. That makes me a terrible person.  
green_and_dying: No, sweet. It doesn’t. Just go with your instincts, OK? The rest will take care of itself.  
ersatz_prince: How?  
green_and_dying: You feel well enough to go out?  
ersatz_prince: Yes, why?  
green_and_dying: Meet me in half an hour? In the park outside Fellini’s?  
ersatz_prince: I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Things are complicated enough as it is.  
green_and_dying: One meeting. You won’t regret it. It’s a public place. Trust me.  
ersatz_prince: I trust you. It’s myself I don’t trust.  
green_and_dying: Everything’s going to be all right. I promise. 

__

__\--_ _

__

__Arthur glances at his watch even as he wishes he could stop himself from looking at it every few seconds. This is beginning to feel horribly like déjà vu._ _

__Ten minutes have passed by the appointed time again, and there’s no sign of anyone showing up. He wishes he’d at least had the foresight to think of exchanging phone numbers this time, but here he is in his stupid red shirt again._ _

__It should have been the perfect setting for a meeting. The sun is low in the sky, bathing the greenery around him with evening light. He’s bitter inside, but part of him can’t help feeling a little relieved. If he’s being played for a fool, it will be all the easier to focus on Merlin without any complications. Merlin, who’d somehow been at the restaurant that day at the same time that Arthur had. Stopping that train of thought—he is not ready to go there yet—he gets to his feet just as his phone starts to ring._ _

__He gets it out of his pocket, fishing for his car keys with the other as he walks toward the parking lot. ‘Gwaine!’ he says joyfully into the phone. ‘Are you back? Please tell me you’re back.’_ _

__‘And how!’ Gwaine’s laughing voice says over the phone. ‘I have so much to tell you, princess! Did you know that in Barcelona, the bars have this thing where—’_ _

__‘No, I did not, and the story can wait.’ Arthur can barely keep the amusement out of his voice, despite his troubled thoughts just a couple of minutes earlier. Gwaine could coax a smile from a rotten tree log. ‘I need your help.’_ _

__‘You’re no fun,’ Gwaine mock-grumbles, and Arthur can hear the grin in his voice. ‘So, what d’you want Sir Gwaine to help you with this time?’_ _

__‘I’m on my way home,’ Arthur says, wedging his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he unlocks his car. ‘Can you meet me there?’_ _

__‘On my way,’ Gwaine says cheerfully, and hangs up._ _

__Arthur’s about to slide into the driver’s seat when someone barrels into him, nearly knocking him over. ‘Merlin!’ he cries. ‘What are you—are you okay?’_ _

__‘Fine,’ Merlin gasps, clutching at Arthur’s arm for support as he tries to catch his breath. ‘Sorry—late—couldn’t find keys—’_ _

__‘Slow down,’ Arthur says, rubbing his back. ‘I can’t make out what you’re—what _are_ you doing here, Merlin?’_ _

__Merlin leans back against the car, grinning. ‘You’ll get it soon enough.’ He’s breathing more easily now._ _

__Arthur stares at him as though he’s looking at a stranger, and the thought he hadn’t dared to think even to himself bursts into his mind like the dawn of a new day._ _

__Merlin is looking at him more soberly now. ‘Are you mad? Please, Arthur, don’t be mad,’ he says worriedly, biting his lip._ _

__Confusion is battling in Arthur’s mind with the feeling he’d had just before Gwaine’s call: the feeling that he’s been played for a fool. ‘How long have you known?’ he asks tonelessly._ _

__‘Since that day at the restaurant. Arthur, please.’ Merlin reaches for him, touching his sleeve, but Arthur finds himself pulling away._ _

__‘I have to go,’ he says, getting into the car._ _

__Merlin grasps his arm through the still-open door. ‘Don’t go, Arthur. Please, not like this.’_ _

__‘Let go of my arm.’ Arthur turns the key in the ignition. Merlin drops his arm as though it’s scalding, and Arthur knows his words have caused hurt. He should close the door now, drive away and leave the whole messed-up situation behind, and never look back._ _

__He doesn’t close the door. ‘You lied to me,’ he says, fingers tight on the steering wheel. He doesn’t look at Merlin. Because if he looks at Merlin now, his resolve will shatter like glass. From the corner of his eye, he can see one of Merlin’s hands, clenched painfully tight, and the glimpse is enough to make him want to forget everything and take Merlin into his arms._ _

__‘I told you everything was going to be all right,’ Merlin says, his voice too soft._ _

__‘It isn’t, damn it!’ Arthur slams a hand against the steering wheel. ‘You _knew_! When you were in my _home_ , when you had your fucking _tongue_ in my mouth, you knew and you didn’t tell me!’_ _

__He hears Merlin release a long, shaky breath. ‘You’re right. I should have told you sooner. I have no excuse.’_ _

__Arthur turns off the ignition and gets out of the car. ‘You’ll have to do better than that,’ he says. ‘Why _didn’t_ you tell me?’_ _

__‘I don’t know,’ Merlin says, looking anywhere but at Arthur. ‘I guess... I guess I was afraid.’_ _

__‘Of what?’ Arthur asks gently. He can look at Merlin now, and he wishes Merlin would look at him. He can look because he’s made up his mind, and he’s wondering why he’d thought it would be difficult to know what to do. There’s a clarity in his mind that’s almost frightening in its intensity, because he’s never been so sure of anything in his life._ _

__‘I was... unfair to you. In the restaurant, and later, when you came by the shop... I was afraid you’d... that you wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore. That I’d lose you.’_ _

__‘Merlin, you’re an idiot.’_ _

__‘Yeah,’ Merlin says ruefully, letting out a ragged, humourless laugh. He finally looks up into Arthur’s face, and Arthur marvels at his ridiculously long eyelashes._ _

__‘And I shouldn’t forgive you just yet,’ Arthur says._ _

__‘But?’ Merlin asks, looking so young and hopeful that Arthur wants to gather him into his arms right then._ _

__He doesn’t stop himself this time, stepping closer and pulling Merlin against his chest. ‘But if I’m to be honest, I really wished it would be you.’_ _

__Merlin says nothing, just clings to Arthur as though he’s the only thing holding him up, as though he’s the ground beneath his feet. He buries his face in Arthur’s neck, his fingers clutching at Arthur’s coat. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says finally, his voice muffled against Arthur’s skin. He lifts his head and kisses Arthur’s cheek, his jaw, the corner of his mouth. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I really am an idiot.’_ _

__‘Yeah,’ Arthur agrees. ‘But you’re my idiot, okay?’_ _

__‘Okay,’ Merlin whispers. ‘Okay.’_ _

__Arthur kisses him then, long and hard and possessive, turning him around and pressing him up against the car and claiming him, not caring that it’s still daylight and anyone could see them. A nagging voice in his head tells him that Gwaine’s waiting, that they have things to do and places to be, but the world can wait a little._ _

__

__\--_ _

__

__‘I can’t believe it,’ Gwen keeps saying, sounding dazed. ‘It’s really all going to be okay? We have a place?’_ _

__‘You have a place, my lady,’ Gwaine grins. He hasn’t stopped flirting unabashedly from the moment he’s laid eyes on Gwen. Lance seems to be taking it fairly well, Arthur thinks as he glances at the quiet young man sitting beside Gwen on the sofa._ _

__And then his eyes can’t help returning to Merlin, who’s perched on the arm of the sofa next to Lance. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his dark jeans, and he’s smiling, laughing at something Gwaine’s just said that Arthur hasn’t even heard because Merlin fills up all his senses, and makes him wish he had five more so he could drink in all of Merlin all at once._ _

__‘Thank you, both of you,’ Lance says, his gaze going from Gwaine to Arthur. ‘I’d almost stopped believing there was kindness in the world.’ Gwen takes his hand and squeezes it. Arthur blinks, suddenly very aware of how much in love they are. Gwen catches his eye and smiles, and he finds himself smiling back as he looks around at the little group in his living room. He’s hardly ever had friends over—Gwaine’s always travelling—but now there is more warmth in his home than there’d ever been before, and he finds himself liking it._ _

__There is more laughter, and then food, cartons and bowls and plates and glasses all over the living room, and there are plans and plans and plans. By the time the food’s consumed, it’s decided that Gwaine’s warehouse in the heart of town is perfect for a transformation into a bookstore with an outdoor cafe that will be much more expansive than the one that the old shop had had, and Arthur’s called in a favour to get the place refurbished at a fraction of what could have cost, and the five of them have agreed to meet the next morning to start shipping the books over, and Merlin gets on the phone and gathers reinforcements to help them with the task._ _

__Lance and Gwen are the first to leave, both looking happy as well as exhausted with relief, and when Gwen hugs Arthur warmly at the door, it doesn’t feel weird at all._ _

__Gwaine looks after them as they leave, sighing dramatically. ‘What a woman. What a man. Wonder if they’d care for a—’_ _

__‘You do know you’re saying that aloud, don’t you?’ Arthur interrupts, and Merlin laughs out loud. ‘Oh, I like this one,’ he tells Arthur approvingly, and Gwaine claps him on the shoulder. ‘I like you too, mate. I gotta be off now, but maybe later you’ll tell me the story of how you two met, eh?’_ _

__Arthur stares at him, incredulous, and Gwaine chuckles and ruffles his hair before grabbing his jacket and striding out the door, whistling._ _

__‘Is he always like that?’ Merlin asks, still grinning._ _

__‘Oh yeah. And I’m still not used to it.’ Arthur gets up, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s been a long evening, and he isn’t tired in the least, but a little high on the adrenaline from all the excitement, and needs to stretch. ‘Can I get you a drink?’_ _

__‘Am I staying, then?’ Merlin asks. He sounds a little subdued, as though he’s only just realised that it’s just the two of them now._ _

__‘Merlin, what have I told you about being an idiot?’ Arthur’s voice is muffled, his head inside the fridge. ‘Beer good?’_ _

__‘It’s good,’ Merlin says from behind him, and Arthur turns around, two cans in his hands, to find himself very close to Merlin._ _

__Merlin takes him by the hips and kisses him unhurriedly, tasting him, taking his time. Arthur makes a small sound at the back of his throat, meaning _don’t stop, don’t ever stop_ , and Merlin makes a sound of his own, meaning _don’t worry, I don’t intend to_ , and they stay that way for a while, kissing with Arthur’s back against the open fridge and his arms around Merlin’s neck, dripping condensation from the beer cans on to Merlin’s black sweater._ _

__Then Arthur hands one of the cans to Merlin, takes Merlin’s free hand in his, kicks the fridge door shut and leads Merlin to the sofa, where the beer lies forgotten for quite a long time on the coffee table while they kiss leisurely and Arthur becomes increasingly convinced that he could quite literally never tire of kissing Merlin, ever._ _

__And then Merlin begins to laugh in mid-kiss, and Arthur pulls back. ‘Did I do something funny?’_ _

__‘No,’ Merlin says. ‘I just realised I was waiting for a beep from my computer. I’m always half-consciously doing that, in case there’s a message from you.’_ _

__‘I do that too,’ Arthur says without thinking._ _

__‘We can still do that,’ Merlin says. ‘But under our own names, this time.’_ _

__Arthur nods. ‘I hope we won’t need to, very much. Because I’m not planning on letting you out of my sight for too long at a time.’_ _

__‘Just try and keep me away,’ Merlin says, and winds his fingers in Arthur’s hair again, with no ulterior purpose than to just play with Arthur’s hair. Arthur leans into him, nosing gently along the line of his throat, pressing a kiss below his ear. Merlin tilts his head obligingly and Arthur kisses and nibbles his way down Merlin’s neck, his hands tugging at the hem of Merlin’s sweater. Merlin pulls it up over his head and they both tug it off him together._ _

__Arthur leans back a little to look at Merlin properly, relishing his first view of Merlin’s bare skin. He trails his fingers lightly down Merlin’s chest, his thumb lingering at his navel to gently trace its rim. Merlin’s eyes follow his movements, bright and greedy, drinking in the sight of Arthur touching him._ _

__‘I’m not made of glass, Arthur,’ he says gently, and Arthur nods, swallowing, afraid to let go, because this is too much, because he can only take Merlin in small doses right now or he’ll lose control._ _

__Merlin takes the decision away from him, moving over him to straddle his lap and kissing him again. It’s fierce right from the start, nothing like the sweet, slow explorations that they’ve made that day. Merlin’s mouth is hot and wet and delicious against his, his delving tongue parting Arthur’s lips easily and fucking his mouth._ _

__‘Here’s what we’re going to do,’ Merlin says when they part for air, gasping. ‘We’re going to go to your bedroom and then you’re going to fuck me into the mattress, okay?’_ _

__Arthur looks up into his blown eyes and nods. There can only be delirious agreement to a proposition like that. ‘I thought—from our conversations, I thought you’d prefer to, you know,’ he says._ _

__‘To top?’ Merlin smiles sweetly, kissing him on the nose. Arthur nods again, speechless with arousal and want that’s making him light-headed, and the very very disconcerting sensation of rapidly falling irrevocably in love._ _

__Merlin kisses his nose again, and then nips it lightly with his teeth. ‘Oh, I want to take you, sweet prince. I want to fuck you with my tongue and make you scream my name, and do things to you that’ll make you beg me to fuck you. But right now’—his fingertips make slow circles against the nape of Arthur’s neck, his other hand cupping Arthur’s face—‘I just want you to take me, Arthur.’_ _

__Arthur cups Merlin’s firm arse with his hands, stroking upward until his fingers are hooked in the waistband of Merlin’s jeans. Merlin grinds down against him, and Arthur closes his eyes, biting his lip. ‘This still feel unreal?’ Merlin asks, tracing Arthur’s bottom lip lightly with his fingertips._ _

__Arthur shakes his head, pressing his face into Merlin’s bare chest. ‘Want you too much,’ he says, voice muffled against Merlin’s warm skin. ‘Afraid I’ll...’_ _

__‘Afraid you’ll what?’ Merlin asks, his voice laced with concern._ _

__‘Be too rough,’ Arthur says, kissing the hollow of Merlin’s throat. His lips taste the light sheen of sweat there and he kisses the same patch of skin again, letting his tongue taste Merlin’s skin._ _

__‘You,’ Merlin says, pulling his head up for a brief, hard kiss, ‘are completely adorable. Arthur, if you _aren’t _rough I’m going to be worried.’___ _

____‘I just... I want this to be perfect, Merlin.’_ _ _ _

____‘I know,’ Merlin says gently. ‘And it will be, because it’s you and me and we are fucking _perfect_ together, Arthur, so just shut up and fuck me already.’_ _ _ _

____And so Arthur does. He lifts Merlin over his shoulder and carries him into the bedroom and tosses him on to his bed and yanks his jeans and pants off together as Merlin laughs with delight, kicking his legs about to help Arthur undress him faster. And then he makes Merlin lie still with his legs up over Arthur’s shoulders, squirming with impatience while Arthur takes his time just drinking in every detail on the front of his body. He caresses Merlin’s cock lightly to keep him distracted, until Merlin pleads for more and Arthur can’t deny him anymore._ _ _ _

____He pushes a pillow under Merlin’s hips and lies on his stomach and bends Merlin’s legs back until his feet are on Arthur’s shoulders, and then parts his cheeks with his hands and licks a long, wet swipe over his crack before nuzzling in close and licking at his entrance in slow, thorough movements._ _ _ _

____‘Arthur,’ Merlin says through gritted teeth. ‘You’re killing me here.’_ _ _ _

____Arthur ignores him completely and takes his time, turning him into a writhing, sweating, pleading mess as he opens him up with his tongue, every lick, every movement of his tongue inside Merlin’s body so exhilarating that he loses track of everything else. Merlin’s hands clutch at his hair as he braces his feet against Arthur’s shoulders and pushes desperately against his tongue, all coherence lost as needy whimpers are torn from his throat._ _ _ _

____Arthur hooks his arms around Merlin’s thighs and holds him in place when he starts wriggling too much. He gently slides the tip of his index finger inside Merlin, and they both gasp as Merlin’s body sucks Arthur in without missing a beat. He goes deeper, fucking Merlin gently, his saliva easing the way._ _ _ _

____‘Now, Arthur, now, _please_ ,’ Merlin all but sobs. _ _ _ _

____Arthur reaches for Merlin’s cock with his other hand, and begins stroking him quickly. ‘Like this, Merlin, I want to look at you come like this, please.’_ _ _ _

____Merlin comes apart beneath him, clenching tight around Arthur’s finger, spilling over his stroking hand, his head thrown back but his eyes wide open, unable to look anywhere but at Arthur. Arthur strokes his thigh gently as he recovers, waiting for him to calm before slowly withdrawing his finger._ _ _ _

____‘Come here,’ Merlin says, half-sitting up and dragging Arthur to him by the front of his shirt and kissing him messily. Arthur wraps his arms around him and lowers them both down again, still kissing him._ _ _ _

____‘You’re still dressed,’ Merlin says when they break apart, sounding a little dazed. ‘How are you still dressed? God, that was intense.’_ _ _ _

____‘I needed to do that,’ Arthur says, looking cautiously into Merlin’s eyes. He knows he’s always been a little too intense in bed, but there was no way he could have taken Merlin rough and fast the first time. There’d been too much building up for him to have done so, and from the look on Merlin’s face, he isn’t complaining._ _ _ _

____‘You always this insistent on having your own way in bed?’ Merlin grins, and smacks Arthur’s head affectionately when he sees the apology on his face. ‘I love it, you great prat.’ He reaches for the zip on Arthur’s jeans with one hand, unbuttoning them with the other._ _ _ _

____‘You don’t have to—’ Arthur begins. Merlin cuts him off with a quick kiss, his hands still busy._ _ _ _

____‘I want to, so shut up, will you?’ Merlin props himself up on an elbow beside Arthur, his other hand leisurely beginning to stroke Arthur’s long-neglected cock. He bends his head and begins kissing Arthur’s mouth slowly, not teasing but thorough, like their lips are only just getting acquainted with each other. Arthur remembers mentioning to him in one of their earliest erotic conversations that he loves being kissed during sex, and it’s strange and exhilarating to be with a new lover who already knows him so well._ _ _ _

____‘I’m leaving my father’s company,’ he murmurs against Merlin’s mouth. Somehow, it seems important to say it before he forgets how to concentrate on such insignificant things as words._ _ _ _

____‘Okay,’ Merlin says carefully, drawing back a little but keeping up his slow stroking of Arthur’s cock._ _ _ _

____‘I can’t be a part of it any more. I never really was,’ Arthur says, arching into Merlin’s touch. Merlin’s fingers squeeze him gently, somehow both affectionate and sensual all at once._ _ _ _

____‘I’m sorry if I’m the cause,’ Merlin says quietly, kissing the corner of Arthur’s mouth._ _ _ _

____‘You’re not—aah, _Mer_ lin—you’re not the cause. I just— _fuck_ , do that again.’_ _ _ _

____Merlin chuckles against his ear, a low, warm sound that’s the beginning of Arthur’s undoing._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____\--_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____Later, when Arthur is appropriately undressed as well and they have explored each other to exhaustion, they resume the conversation with Arthur contentedly on his back, Merlin half on his chest and half wrapped around him like a many-limbed sea creature. This, too, is new... this being able to talk to someone without having to watch for their facial expressions, their body language. It’s too new to feel like this, but Arthur seems to know the meaning of every sated hum of Merlin’s, seems to be able to read the random patterns that Merlin’s fingertips are absently making on his chest like words._ _ _ _

____‘What will you do?’ Merlin asks, even though they haven’t spoken in words for over an hour, and it’s like the conversation has never stopped at all._ _ _ _

____‘Start my own firm.’ Arthur trails a hand up Merlin’s arm, tucks Merlin’s hair behind his ear with his other hand. ‘I won’t take his authors away. This isn’t a competition. I’ll find others, maybe new authors whom other publishers won’t give a chance.’_ _ _ _

____‘Publish me?’ Merlin asks without lifting his head._ _ _ _

____Arthur presses his lips into Merlin’s hair. It smells of his woodsy shampoo and sweat and sex. He takes a deep breath. ‘Why?’_ _ _ _

____‘You don’t want to?’ Merlin wraps his legs more snugly around Arthur’s, entwining them even more hopelessly._ _ _ _

____‘It’s not that. You could go to anyone. Earn so much more with a big publisher.’_ _ _ _

____Merlin props his chin on Arthur’s chest to look at him. ‘You really think it’s about the money?’_ _ _ _

____‘No, of course not. It’s not just about the money. But you’re so successful already that your next book is predestined to be a bestseller. You could be financially secure for life, Merlin.’_ _ _ _

____‘Exactly. I have an established readership who will buy my books no matter who publishes them,’ Merlin says simply. It’s not arrogance, just a simple statement of fact. ‘That could give you the kickstart you need. And you’re already well-known. You and Morgana have been the face of Pendragon Books. Between us, we could make this work right from the start.’_ _ _ _

____Arthur combs his fingers through Merlin’s hair, gazing into his earnest face. ‘You sure about this?’_ _ _ _

____‘More than anything. In fact, I’m thinking that with whatever you and I can invest together, we can share a bit of Gwen and Lance’s space. There’s enough room for everyone, and it’ll be easier on them too if we’re all sharing expenses.’_ _ _ _

____Arthur turns his gaze away, leaving his hand on Merlin’s head. ‘Arthur?’ Merlin prompts gently when he doesn’t respond for a while. ‘If you don’t want to, just say the word. You know I won’t take offence.’_ _ _ _

____Arthur turns back to Merlin, rubbing his thumb across Merlin’s cheek. ‘It’s not... I don’t... what about us? This?’_ _ _ _

____Merlin frowns a little, as though he’s trying to understand. ‘What about us?’_ _ _ _

____‘It’s all so new,’ Arthur says, helpless. ‘What if... I don’t know, Merlin, don’t they say it’s bad to mix business with one’s personal life?’_ _ _ _

____Merlin shrugs. ‘Probably. But that’s a platitude, Arthur. We’ve been talking for months. I think I know you a little by now.’_ _ _ _

____‘Enough to want to—’_ _ _ _

____‘Spend the rest of my life with you, yes,’ Merlin finishes for him. ‘If you’ll have me, that is,’ he adds._ _ _ _

____‘Hmm, let’s see.’ Arthur puts on his serious face. ‘You’re asking me if, on the day I found out that the most brilliant author I’ve read in recent times is also my secret internet boyfriend, I’ll agree to a wild proposition that could go wrong in about, oh, I don’t know, a zillion different ways?’_ _ _ _

____‘Yes,’ Merlin says, grinning. ‘That is exactly what I’m asking you.’_ _ _ _

____‘On one condition.’ Arthur keeps his face expressionless, although he knows without a doubt that Merlin can see the answer in his eyes._ _ _ _

____‘Name your terms, my prince.’_ _ _ _

____‘Come home to me,’ Arthur says, knowing he’s killing the humour in the situation, but needing to say it. ‘Go where you like, do what you like, stay away whenever you need to, but always come home to me.’_ _ _ _

____‘Always,’ Merlin agrees without a second’s hesitation, and Arthur gathers him close, and no more words are spoken for a very long time._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____~end_ _ _ _


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